


Valentine Jokes

by LeesaPerrie



Series: The RTA Series [3]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-09
Updated: 2006-04-09
Packaged: 2019-06-14 01:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15377607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeesaPerrie/pseuds/LeesaPerrie
Summary: Set a few months after ‘What’s in a Name’ and Jim is back at work. More fluff with the boys and their cars.





	Valentine Jokes

**Valentine Jokes  
By Leesa Perrie**

Jim opened the door to the loft, after collecting the newspaper and mail, to find Blair just emerging from the bathroom.

“Hey, Jim, anything for me?” Blair asked.

“Yeah, looks like you have a few cards here, Mr Valentine,” Jim answered, grinning.

“Hey, great. Hand them over.”

“So, how many women have you got on the go at the moment, Lover Boy, or should that be, Table Leg?” Jim teased. 

“You’re just jealous, man,” Blair replied, grabbing a handful of envelopes. “Hey, there’s one here addressed to you that looks like a card. Anything you want to tell me, Jim?”

“No,” Jim replied, looking puzzled and taking said envelope from Blair. “That one addressed to you looks like the same writing, Chief,” he said, pointing to one of Blair’s envelopes.

“That’s a bit strange,” Blair said, “I don’t think we’ve been dating the same woman somehow. Probably someone’s idea of a joke.”

“Yeah. Well, let’s open them together and see if we can figure out who’s behind it.”

“Okay, man.”

Jim opened his envelope at the same time as Blair. Jim’s had a heart on the front and inside it said, “To my darling Jim from your one and only Sweetheart” and had a cartoon of his truck at the bottom.

Blair’s had a different heart on the front, and inside it said, “To my wonderful Blair from your one and only Myrtle” and had a cartoon of Blair’s Volvo at the bottom, plus the words, “Myrtle, the turtle look-a-like”.

Jim and Blair exchanged cards and looked at each other.

“So, Simon, Henri or Rafe?” asked Blair. “Or all three, even?”

Jim looked at the cards closely and then drew in a careful breath.

“Hmm, smells like special blend coffee and expensive cigar smoke,” Jim said, looking at Blair.

“Simon!” They exclaimed together.

“Guess we’re gonna have to think up some way of getting him back,” Blair said, with a wicked grin. “Especially referring to Myrtle as a turtle, she’s nothing like one!”

“Oh I don’t know, the Volvo does look a little bit like a turtle,” Jim couldn’t help but tease him.

“She does not!” 

“Why did you call her Myrtle, then, if it wasn’t to rhyme with turtle?”

“Because Myrtle means an evergreen shrub and she’s a green car! She’s not at all turtle-like!”

“If you say so,” Jim said, not looking the least bit convinced of the Volvo’s non-turtle-ness. “But you’re right about getting Simon back,” a glint of mischief entered Jim’s eyes, “and I think I have just the right idea of how to do so.”

*********

Simon entered the bullpen, noting that Jim and Blair weren’t in. He wondered if they had figured out who had sent them the car valentine cards. Not that he was worried if they had. He grinned to himself at the thought of their faces when they opened the cards, and only wished he could have been there to see their expressions.

As he entered his office, he noticed a white bag on his desk with a note attached. Curious, he picked up the note. It said, “To Simon, with lots of love, your secret admirer”. He didn’t recognise the handwriting. Shrugging, he opened the bag and found a pineapple Danish inside. He smiled, and pulled it out, setting it on top of the paper bag.

Putting his coat on the rack, he sat down and picked up the Danish, biting into it and looking forward to the sweet pastry and pineapple taste. 

“Crap!” He spit it out, quickly. It tasted of very strong, and hot, curry powder. He heard laughter coming from the bullpen, and looked out his window to see that Jim and Blair had appeared from wherever they had been. He wasn’t stupid. He put two and two together and came up with one detective and one police observer.

“Ellison! Sandburg!” he roared. When they didn’t respond, he got up and went out into the bullpen. The two miscreants had disappeared. “Damn.”

Still, he was a patient man, and he could wait. And plot. And scheme. And think up some way of getting them back.

The End


End file.
